One Last Sunset
by mayday657
Summary: Jasper is twenty. Alice hasn't turned sixteen yet. He's struggling to become a parental figure, she's trying to get through high school. Can they overcome social and personal problems and fall in love? Or will unseen tragedy tear them apart? All Human.
1. Waiting

ONE**LAST**SUNSET

_Chapter One- WAITING_

_May 28, 2009_

I'm looking out of the plane window and see a damp, but green forest line coming into view beneath. After the past three years I've spent in a desert, the moist, cool serenity of a Washington summer is exactly what I am looking for to ease my tired mind. I stretch my leg out carefully, doing my best to avoid aggravating my busted knee, the reason why I am currently flying back home for the summer, after two long years of fighting.

Summer. It is always seen as a new beginning, a chance to start over. When I recall all of the 22 summers that I had endured in my life, the one that comes to mind the most is the summer of 2006, when I was 20 years old. A lot of things happened that summer; some tragic, some blissful, some unexpected. The thing that I remember the most, was also the last thing that I expected to happen.

I met the love of my life, in the form of a barely sixteen year old girl named Alice.

Don't start telling me about the law or about statutory rape or any other of those terms; believe me, I've heard them all. I did not fall in love with her because she was sixteen. I did not go looking for her to fall for me. I had no intention of letting our relationship grow as far as it did. But that summer seemed to have a mind of its own, and despite my morals and failed attempts at staying away we still fell in love. Perhaps if we hadn't, a lot of things that summer may have been different. I'll let you be the judge of that.

I'm looking out of the plane window, and the ground is coming slowly into view. I'm reminded of a similiar landing on a plane just like this, three summers ago, when all of this heartbreak and adventure began.....

____

_May 12, 2006_

I exit the gate slowly, my duffel bag draped over my shoulders. Years ago, when I was a kid, I had imagined my return from the Army. My mom and Walter would be waiting at the gate, with Rosalie in tow, and they would scream upon my arrival and hug me. Rosalie would beg me not to leave again. Mom would get tears in her eyes and stammer that I looked handsome. Walter would shake my hand and tell me that I had made him proud.

But things never really work out the way you want them to.

A single person is sitting in the arrival gate area waiting for me, and her head is bowed to her knees. When she sees me coming, Rosalie springs to her feet and, just like I thought she would, embraces me with all the strength she has. She shook with sobs and I dropped my bag to pull her into my arms and tuck my head down protectively against her. Other people stared at us as they passed but we were oblivious to their attention.

"Come on." I murmured after awhile, and we separated. Rose wiped at her eyes timidly and I reached down for my bag. "Let's head home."

There would be no parents waiting of us now. Rosalie and I were orphans.

My biological father, Jasper Whitlock Sr., had died when I was two from a brain aneurysm. Four years later, my mom had found love again in the form of a kind man named Walter Hale. My mother smiled again for the first time since the funeral and within the year I had a baby sister, Rosalie Hale. Walter's job got transferred to a firm in Seattle, so when I was 16 and Rosalie was 12 we moved from Houston to small town in Washington. Being the only kid with a Southern drawl was a little aggravated at first, but I only had to put up with it for two years. Then, I joined the army, like my dad, in hopes that in two or three years I could go to college.

College was a far off, forgotten idea now.

Walter and Jane Hale were killed last week when a drunk driver struck their car on their way home from grocery shopping. The roads in Forks are always slick with rain, and against a swerving drunk they never really stood a chance. So now, Rosalie, at sixteen, needed a legal guardian or she would be placed in foster care. I left the army with honor from my superiors to watch my baby sister until she graduated. We were going to have to work hard if she wanted any chance of getting into college. Walter made a modest amount, but never enough to support a college tuition, especially after funeral expenses. It was not my college that I was worried about now. If Rose wanted to go to college, which I know she did, we were both going to have to work, and she was going to have to try for some sort of scholarship. I recall her mentioning that if her volleyball performance continued to improve, she might be able to get herself a scholarship to a local college. This broke my heart, because I know that she had always dreamed about going abroad or going to New York for school.

I was 20 years old, and I was the man of the house.

The next week or so was a blur, full of black clothes and condolences and casseroles for dinner. I was referred as Jasper Hale on several occasions, and while it usually bothered me I just accepted it. I think my dad would understand that being a Whitlock wasn't as important as being Walter's stepson at the current moment.

Things did start to get back to normal eventually. Rosalie still had a few weeks of school left, and even though they offered her the rest of the year off she wanted to go back. She did not want to start her junior year behind in the fall, so we prepared for her to return to school on Monday morning. The old truck that had been mine from high school needed some serious repairs, so I fixed what I could myself, and if it needed professional help I would take it to my friend Peter's garage.

_Monday, May 22, 2006, Morning_

"Do you honestly think you can get that old thing working?" Rosalie asked, her voice thick with doubt. She set her books on the bed of the truck and gave me hard stare before glancing at her watch. "Maybe I should just take the bus?" she suggested.

"You," I pointed with the wrench that I was holding. "Have too little faith." I slammed the hood down and gave her an excited look. "That should do it." I wiped the grease off my fingers and opened the driver's side door, turning the key into the ignition. The sound of my old engine purring to life made me twinge with nostalgia, remembering the many times where Rosalie and I would speed off together in the car on our way to school. It seemed terribly ironic that we were doing it again under such circumstances.

"You out do yourself Jasper." Rosalie murmured sarcastically, letting herself into the passenger's seat. I chuckled as I prepared to pull out the drive way. Simultaneously, we both stopped what we were doing and put on our seat belts. We exchanged an awkward glance, both soundlessly recalling that seat belts could have saved our parents lives. I hastily flipped on the radio and we started on our way.

"Shouldn't you be getting your license soon?" I asked, trying to start a conversation.

Rosalie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I have my permit.' she replied quietly. 'But I don't want to doing any driving just yet." She did not meet my gaze and I frowned.

"That's understandable." I said out loud, more to myself then to my sister, who didn't reply. I decided that a different subject was probably a better idea. "So, got any after school plans?" I enquired casually. I was hoping to do some job hunting today, and didn't want her to have to come home to an empty house.

"I'm going to Emmett's after school." she answered, her voice returning to a more even tone. I had yet to meet my sister's boyfriend, and it made me a little apprehensive that she would now be able to spend a lot more time alone with said boyfriend, but I knew there was nothing I could do about it. "Do you want to meet at the diner at six? I don't know about you, but I certainly don't want to eat more casserole."

"You're right about that.' I smiled at her. "I've been dying to meet this Emmett guy. Its about time he and big brother were introduced.'

"Jazz." Rosalie said warningly. "Don't do anything stupid." her tone turned sharp, and for a moment she look murderous. I gave her an amused smirk. I had forgotten how rebellious and headstrong my teenage sister could be. Times like these, it seemed like sixteen and twenty were a lot more than just four years apart. She was still a child, and I was just about grown up.

"I'm going to do some job hunting." I announced to her, as we pulled into the parking lot. "Wish me luck'.

She gave me a pretty smile. "Don't be an ass. Then you'll be fine." I laughed at her remark as she slid out of her seat and out the door.

"Good luck!" I called out to her, beeping the horn. Several people turned to look at me and Rosalie gave me a reproachful stare. I grinned crazily at her and she stuck out her tongue, before waving her arm in farewell.

_Evening_

My so called 'job hunting' had been a total bust. They say that a high school diploma alone will never really get you that far, but I didn't expect to be as completely screwed over as I had been today. Sure, people took pity on my situation, and they gave some respect because of the whole army thing, but most every place I went interviewing at I was told that unfortunatly, without a college degree, I was not eligible for employment. I was given several pitying smiles and told that after I did graduate college I should be sure to come back and reapply.

So that's how I came to be pulling into Peter's at quarter to six, empty handed and disappointed. Peter was a real decent guy, and I'd worked at his garage back when I was a kid. He and his wife, Charlotte, were very kind, heartfelt people who treated me like family. Pete was only seven or eight years older than me, and he'd been working at the garage since his father had left him the place. I found him out back, working on an old Chevy pickup.

"Well well well, if it isn't that Whitlock kid. " Peter grinned at me and walked away from the truck, wiping his greasy hands and then extending his arms to embrace me. I did, knowing that while I would probably smell like oil when I got home, it would be worth it. "How've you been kid? Are you feeling alright?" Pete had been there at the funeral, had clapped me on the shoulders and told me that Walter and my mother, and my Dad for the matter, would all have been proud of what I had accomplished.

I shrugged at him. "I'm okay. Things could be worse, you know, but they could be better." I sighed and leaned against the counter running a hand through my disheveled hair. "I can't get a job anywhere Pete." I confessed to him. "Everywhere I go, people are asking about college, and if I don't find somewhere decent to work, Rosalie ain't never gonna _go _to college." I groaned and closed my eyes. "How I am supposed to tell her that I couldn't get a job? I told her this morning that I went applying today!"

Peter punched me affectionately on the shoulder. "You know, I have been needing some help back here during the weekdays. Hell, even on the weekends, you come in early, and I could certainly find something for you to do." I looked up at his kind, sincere face and once more felt so incredibly moved by the amazing guy that Pete was.

"I can't ask you to do that Pete." I protested, not wanting to take away from his own work just because of my financial problems.

"Yes you can." Peter objected. "And you will. Look, if you find something better, you can leave, no second thoughts." he gave me a hard look. "Its better than telling that baby sister of yours that you are still unemployed."

"You're right." I found myself agreeing, heaving another sigh. Jasper Whitlock, full time mechanic. I never would have expected that to be what I did with my life. "I really appreciate it Pete, honestly."

"Don't mention it." Peter shook it off with a wave of his hand. "I gotta get back to work. You wanna stay for dinner? Charlotte's cooking?"

"I'd like to Pete, but I have to meet Rosalie at the diner, I'm just about late actually." I gave my watch a frantic look. "But we'll get together soon, okay? I'll bring Rose along as well."

"I'll look forward to it." Peter agreed, shaking my hand. I smiled at him and exited the garage, heading back toward the trunk. "And kid, be here at 8 sharp, 'right, because starting tomorrow, you work for me." I beeped the horn in agreement and waved goodbye, starting my drive towards the diner.

I was still apprehensive about telling Rosalie about the job at the garage. The pair of us had grown up working around cars. We'd put together this truck with Walter right after we moved here. My older motor bike, that I'd ridden more back in Houston where it was dry, was still out back in the shed, where we had out workshop. Maybe one of these days I would get that old bike out again.

Still, as a pulled into the diner, I was feeling physically and emotionally exhausted. I was trying so hard to be everything Rosalie needed in a guardian, but still, I didn't think it was enough. I yet to officially come to terms with the fact that Walter and Mom were dead; it was more like they had just gone on some sort of impromptu vacation. I hadn't even cried at the funeral. The last thing I wanted though, was for Rosalie to see me breakdown. If that meant bottling up my emotions and putting on a fake smile every morning, than that's what I would do.

It was raining, of course, when I exited the truck. I took my time walking inside, wondering if I would have to call Rosalie to find where she was sitting or if I would be able to spot her. It looked kind of crowed inside. My watch told me I was running a bit late. My time at the garage with Peter must have been longer than I'd thought. I pushed the double doors to the diner opened and squinted at the inside. There was no signs of my sister, though the appearance of one person made me completely forget about her.

A beautiful girl was sitting at the counter, with short, spiky hair and stumpy legs that dangled and did not reach the floor. She jumped to her feet when she saw me, and I wondered why this stunning creature would be heading my way, and praying to God that she was. She walked right up to me like we had made a pre-arranged engagement, and smiled when she was withing inches of me.

"You've kept me waiting a long time." she said teasingly, and I felt my heart shatter at the thought of causing this angel any sort of discomfort. It did not occur to me to wonder how the girl knew who I was. All I wanted to know was her name, and why she had such an overwhelming affect on me.

Unable to think of anything to say, I dipped my head and spoke in a clumsy, accented words, 'I'm sorry, 'mam."

She just grinned up at me. "I'm Rosalie's friend Alice. Emmett surprised her with these back stage concert tickets, and she told me to come here and meet you. She said you weren't answering your phone."

I did not consider for one second what she said about my phone. All I was doing was processing what she had said. She was my sister's friend. My sixteen year old, sophomore in high school, sister's friend. I had no right to be ogling her, and she certainly had no right to be ogling me.

Yet ogle me she did. "I don't about you, but I'm starving. After waiting for you for so long, I'd say you owe me a meal." And then, she did something most unexpected. She extended her hand to me.

I should have recognized the danger signs then. I should have politely declined, perhaps leaving her some money for a burger. I should have taken into thought that this was a sixteen year old girl, and that there was certain standards that came with sixteen year old girls. I could have prevented all the heartbreak and trouble that was to come this summer if I just walked away.

But I didn't. I took the hand.

And in the moment, not only did I walk into the biggest adventure of my life, but I also felt, for the first time since the death of my parents, like there was any kind of hope for the future.

Still feeling slightly awkward and apprehensive, I slid into a booth across from Alice. She set down her purse beside her and gently tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear, sneaking a glance at me while she did. My heart accelerated. My head told me to stop right away, and that what was going down her would only lead to trouble. If Rosalie was having dinner with some twenty year old, I would surely beat him up. No doubt that Alice's brother, or father, or any concerned parent for that matter, would probably beat me up if they saw me here.

Yet oddly, I made no move to end the encounter, and instead looked with mild interest at a menu.

The waitress took our order. A burger for me, a salad for her. I wondered if I was just being paranoid, or if the waitress did look suspicious as she eyed the company that I was keeping. I was half suspected her to yell 'child molester' and drag me away.

Instead she came back two minutes later with drinks and said she would return shortly with our meals, giving me a flirty wink as she passed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alice glare at the waitress's retreating back. For some reason, this pleased me.

"So," I began, taking a tentative sip out of my Sprite. Only a couple more months I'd be able to just get a beer like I wanted to. "You said Rosalie and Emmett went to a concert?" Despite the fact that my moral compass was not exactly pointing North today, it did not mean I was not concerned for my sister's well being. Plus, I needed a conversation point to break that awkward tension between us.

Alice set down her ice tea. "Yeah. They went to this show up at the Metro Dome. Rosalie loves Between the Trees." she smiled fondly and played with the straw of her drink. I found it adorable.

"Between the Trees?" I repeated, the name unfamiliar to me. Then again, I was not really up to date with the current music industry.

"You haven't heard of them?" Alice smiled once again, and the sight of it tugged at my heartstrings. "I'm not surprised. They're fairly unheard of. Rose and Emmett are into that whole out of the box, non mainstream music."

This did not suprise me. Rosalie was never much for following the crowd and always liked to do her own, unique things.

"What about you? What kind of things to you listen to?" Alice inquired. I was trying not to contemplate on how much this was seeming like a date. Instead, I tried to convince myself that it was nothing more than just buying my sister's best friend some lunch. Like a gentlemen.

"I listen to a lot of different things, but I've never gotten into hip-hop or rap." The current music on the radio today irked me. It all sounded the same and lacked lyrics and riffs that could grab my attention. "If I had to name favorites, I'd say Collective Soul, uh, Green Day, Blink 182, and Our Lady Peace."

Alice nodded. "Collective Soul are interesting." she agreed. A girl who listening to Collective Soul? Was this fate? "My personal top picks are probably Relient K and We the Kings." She must have recognized the complete incomprehensive look on my face, because she added "I'll burn you some CDS." the prospect of having more contact or conversation with her gave me thrill and anticipation, even though once again, my conscience told me that I should not pursue any further contact. 'Of course, you can't forget the classics. The Beatles. The Kinks."

God, how could I have found a girl like this? Most of the girls that I talked to had never even heard of the Kinks, let alone would list them as a favorite. Why was it that the more I talked to her, the more I was getting pulled closer and closer and never wanting to back down?

"How old are you?" I blurted out unexpectedly. I hope that she did not realize the reason I wanted to know her age was because I was so attracted to her.

"I'll be sixteen in August." she answered. This girl was only fifteen! She was probably not even a sophomore yet! Jeez, I was such a pervert! And yet, she didn't seem to see me as one. "And you?"

How much did I long to say seventeen! Or eighteen. Or even nineteen. Because if we were both teenagers, maybe this wouldn't look so bad. The age difference between sixteen and nineteen seemed so much smalled and insignifcant than that between twenty and sixteen! "I'm twenty." I answered, seeing something that almost looked like disappointment flash in her eyes.

The waitress returned with our food. I thanked her and stared down at my burger. It did not look much better than any of the caseroles that Rose and I had been surviving off of the over the past week, but I was too hungry to care. For a few minutes, there was silence between us as we both ate. She must have been just as hungry as I was. I noticed that her salad had no chicken or bacon or any sort of meat in it at all. Perhaps she was a vegetarian?

"Jasper," her voice has softened now, and it sounded a little uncomfortable. She tucked her hair behind her ear again, in what I was beginning to recognize as a sign of nervousness. 'I just thought I should say,' her voice got lower still. "I'm uh, I'm really sorry. About your parents.' She did not me my eyes and blushed a little.

The mention of my parents brought me a little closer to reality once again, and was beginning to realize that I needed to end this evening quickly if I knew what was good for me. I cleared my throat. "Thanks.' I muttered, also not meeting her gaze, and surprised by the burning in the back of my throat. Suddenly losing my appetite, I pushed my plate away from me and stared thoughtfully at the ice cubes that were melting at the bottom of my glass. I could feel Alice's eyes on me, but when I looked up she appeared to be completely engrossed in her meal.

I picked half-heatedly at fries for another ten minutes, whilst Alice continued to eat her salad. We did not resume our conversation. At last, she finished her food and reached for her purse, pulling out a wallet. My father would never forgive me if I let a lady pay for own meal, financial problems be damned. I placed my hand on her wrist to stop her and we both flinched at the contact. Static electricity, that's what it had to be.

"I got this one." I muttered, trying once again to avoid her gaze. "I did keep you waiting, after all."

Alice smiled nervously at me and placed her wallet back in her bag, "I'll be sure to make it up to you sometime."

Oh jeez. I wanted nothing more than to ask this girl how exactly she planned on making it up to me, but the better part of me was screaming to back down. Trying to balance between the two, I managed a small chuckle and replied 'We'll see about that.'

The waitress returned, and gave my untouched burger and then myself a dirty look. I slid a twenty to her and then gave her a half smile. Any annoyance she had with me vanished and instead she blushed and walked away, turning around as she did to wave a goodbye in my direction. Alice coughed behind me. She was reaching for the bag again, now extracting a cell phone.

"I've got to call my dad for a ride." She explained, beginning to dial a number.

"I'll give you a ride." I shot out, before I could stop myself. Damn, why was I acting so impulsive, especially with a girl who wasn't even old enough for her driver's license? Alice looked intently at me for a minute, as if she was sizing me up. Then, hesitantly, she slid the phone back into her bag.

"Alright." she said boldly, and an excited smile lit up her face. I instantly decided that I would take whatever means necessary to be near this girl again, just so I could have another look at that killer smile of hers. She stood up, and it struck me again how short she was. It seemed to make her appear even younger, which was not a very good thing for my current state of mind. She tossed her bag over her shoulder. "Lets go."

I led the way out of the restaurant. If it had been Rosalie, I would have slung an arm arcoss her shoulders or placed my hand on the small of her back. Neither of these things seemed appropriate, yet I was looking for any excuse to touch her again. I gave the cloudy sky a wary look as we headed to the truck. I was surprised that she did not show more adversion to getting soaked in the rain. Most girls I knew ran for cover and would be sprinting through the parking lot right now.

I clamored into the drivers seat and turned on the igniton, thankful that the old beast decided to start for me. I flipped around for a good radio station and stopped when I heard an old Dylan song. As I pulled out, I saw Alice crinkle her nose in distaste.

"What?" I teased gently. "Not a fan of Bob?"

She shook her head. "I just don't really get the attraction to him. I can't get really focused on anything that comes out of his mouth, let alone understand it." I could tell that if I let her go, she could ramble on this for much more time.

"Well then, it will have to be my mission to find a Dylan song that you will be able to appreciate." I flashed her a smile, and she grinned crazily at me in disbelief.

"That'll be the day." she teased lightly.

"I'm always up for a challenge." I murmured lowly to her, and she turned slightly pink and looked at the floor. I adjusted the volume on the stereo and took a glance out the window. More views of the green Forks countryside came into view. "Where I am going, now?"

"Excuse me?" she asked, clearly not understanding what I was asking of her.

"Where's your house?" I inquired, trying to remember if she mentioned where she lived at all.

"Oh, right. Um... take a right up here." she gestured with her finger, and I pulled into an obscure dirt road off of the main street. It was a private road, so I assumed that she must have one of those old style, really expensive homes. Sure enough, after driving for about a quarter of a mile, a beautiful stone home came into view. I tried to remember if I had ever seen this house before when I lived her as a kid, but was coming up blank.

I stopped the truck outside the house and waited. "What time should Rose be home?" It did not occur to me until now that it was a school night and she probably had homework to do.

"My brother should have her home by ten at the latest." Alice answered.

"Your brother?" I searched my brains to recall if Alice had told me that Emmett was her brother. I don't think that she did. This made the situation all the more awkward. I could not possibly be feeling anything for a not-even-sixteen year old, let alone a sixteen year that was friendly with my sister and related to said sister's boyfriend.

"Yeah." Alice smiled timidly at me once more, then cleared her throat. "Thanks for dinner. Maybe will see each other again some time?" Her hopeful voice both excited me and scared the crap out of me.

"I'd like that." I found myself saying, dipping my head to her. She did not seem to find my remark the least bit off color. Instead, she waved goodbye to me and slid out of the truck. I saw a figure in the doorway and suspected it was her father. I turned on the ignition once more and beeped farewell. Alice and her father both waved once more as I pulled away.

I contemplated the feelings that I had felt for Alice as I drove home. I tried to convince myself that it was just my reaction to the first girl I had spoken to since I returned from the War. It was not going to amount to anything. Under no circumstances should I allow it to amount to anything. For her own good, I should probably to my best to stay as far away from Alice as I could respectfully achieve.

With this in mind, I got back and turned on a baseball game while I waited for Rosalie to return. At five after ten, I heard a car in the driveway. Deciding against snooping on my sister's goodbye to her boyfriend, I waited for her to come inside. Within five minutes, I heard footsteps outside and then the front door opened and shut. Rosalie put her rain soaked jacket in the closet and came into to say hello.

"Did you have a good time at the concert?"

"Yeah. It was really cool." Rosalie sat her bag down and plopped next to me on the couch. "You weren't upset about me bailing on dinner were you?"

I recalled once more the dinner with Alice. "No." I answered quietly, unable to keep a contented grin from reached my face. "I didn't mind at all." If Rosalie noticed my expression, she didn't comment on it.

"How'd the job hunting go?"she asked, and I sighed. I was hoping she would forget to ask me about it and I could put off telling her about the garage job.

"I'm working at Pete's." I told her sheepishly, not meeting her gaze. She touched my shoulder gently.

"Hey," her voice was soft. "I'm happy for you." she smiled and I did my best to smile back. She reached for her bag and started towards the stairs. I watched her go. Right then, she had seemed older, almost like an adult. How could a teenager seem like a kid at some points, and an adult at the other?

And once again, despite my resolutions to stay away, I was myself wondering about the short teenage girl, and hoping that somehow I would find the opportunity to see her again.

_End Chapter One_

**So, here is my first at a multi-chapter fic. I hope the idea is something believable. I'm not exactly certain how wrong a 20/16 year old relationship is legally, but morally I know that it would cause some issues. I debated making Jasper older, like 22 but then he was too much older than Rosalie and I didn't like that. If their is any aversion or recommendations about the ages, please let me know. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Twilight. The title to this story is taken from Romeo and Juliet, which I always am not claiming any ownership of. **

**In Chapter Two: Jasper's new parental status is put to the test as he meets with a social case worker from Rosalie's school. Meanwhile, Rosalie and Emmett prepare for the prom, and Alice and Jasper have an unplanned interaction that only increases their attraction to each other. **

**Review.**

**-mayday**


	2. Faith

ONE**LAST**SUNSET

_Chapter Two- FAITH_

_Tuesday, May 23, 2006, Early Morning_

Fire. Gunshots. Shouts. Screams. Explosions. A car speeding off the road. Screaming. Rosalie's screaming. I'm screaming...

I tear myself violently out of the dream and sit up in the bed, breathing heavily. My legs are shaking and I'm sweating so much that the bed covers are sticking to my chest. Trying to control my frantic heart, I wrench myself out of the covers and walk into the hallway. I lean my head against the cool glass of the front window and close my eyes, begging myself to calm down. The clock down the hall reads 3:16 AM.

I have yet to sleep through the night since my parents died.

I'm a soldier. I'm used to having nightmares. But every since they died, the dreams have gotten worse and worse, and even though I never witnessed the event, I always seem to imagine of mother's car veering off the road. Except neither my mother or Walter is in the vehicle. Rosalie is. Her beautiful face is scarred and torn and her stricking hair is streaked with blood. Then I'm falling, and I'm screaming, and there's blood on my hands...

The dream make no sense to me. But it scares the shit out me none the less. One of the guys I served with tells me that dreams really don't mean anything at all. That they are just a random firing of neurons in your brain, fueled by recent experience. I try my hardest to believe this. Rosalie's torn face flashes through my head once more, and I'm longing for something, anything to make it go away. I know I won't get back to sleep, I never do.

I walk unsteadily into the kitchen and open the fridge. After a few minutes of searching, I conclude that there is no alcohol in it. I frown, trying to remember where Walter used to hide an old bottle of whiskey and coming out blank. Thinking about Walter reminds me that he's dead and suddenly I'm glad the whiskey is hidden, because drinking it seems oddly offensive now that he isn't around to replace it.

Finding no relief in the kitchen, I venture into my bathroom and open the medicine cabinet. Like all other medicine cabinets, it has Asprin and Motrin and cough medicine. There's some Claratin and other allergy meds. Then there's the unusual stuff. A bottle of over the counter sleeping pills- mine. They fail to put me out through the night, and I've just about given up on them. I recall the doctor's appointment I had last week after the funeral. My doctor seemed concerned about me, said I should consider taking anti-depressants or anti-anxiety pills. I ignored him.

There is one little bottle that I am looking for though. Pain killers. I'm supposed to be taking them for a shoulder injury, but these days I've been taking them every once and while just to feel numb. I'm not trying to get high. I'm not trying to get hooked. I just want to, if only for a minute, or an hour, not feel anything at all. Its not really a high. Its just a state of mind where I can... be.

I pick the bottle up thoughtfully. I wonder what Rosalie would think if she ever saw me now. Her pathetic brother, who is supposed to take care of her, is downing pain killers in the middle of the night. Disgusted with myself, I flush the whole lot down the toilet and go back to my bedroom.

I spend the remainder of the night eluding sleep and staring at my ceiling.

_Morning_

At six o'clock it dawns on me that I have no chance of falling back to sleep. I get out of bed and pull on an old pair of jeans and sweatshirt. After lacing some beat up chucks, I walk quietly down the hall. Rosalie's room is still dark and silent; at the end of the school year she usually doesn't wake up until almost seven. Making sure not to wake her, I descent the staircase and slip soundlessly out the back door.

I heave a sigh upon reaching the outdoors. Its still dark for the most part, and a little cold, but at least its not raining. I walk around back and up into the forest that surrounds our home, walking idly on one of my old haunts from high school. About a half a mile into the woods, I stop by my favorite tree and look up. Right at this spot, you can see all the way up the mountain. Walter brought me here when I was seventeen, on one of our first hunting trips. I smiled at the memory. Walter was never the type of person you'd expect to see holding a gun. He had gone hunting with me because it was one the only activities you could do around here, and mom thought that he and I needed something to do to 'bond.' Neither of us enjoyed it, so whenever we felt the need we would tell mom we were hunting and then go for a hike or sometimes catch a movie. Mom never caught on, even though we never once brought home any game or shared any tales of the hunt. I wondered if she knew more than she let on.

I sat there reminiscing about those evening walks with Walter until the first bits of dawn could be seen around the mountains. This spot was a spectacular place to watch sunrises and sunsets. I observed the colors in the sky in reverence in silent awe. I recalled how my mom used to say that a sunrise was God's way of saying hello after the long dark of night, and that a sunset was a last goodbye.

Feeling the familiar knot tie up in my stomach at the thought of my deceased parents, I turned away from the breathtaking view and took of towards home. I knew that it was probably around seven now and Rose was likely awake and wondering where I was. I kick at old dead leaves on the way home, listening to the satisfying crunch as each brown sheet crumbles and crackles beneath my feet.

Rosalie is at the kitchen table when I get back, a half-eaten bowl of cereal in front of her. She gives me a quick look.

"Where'd you go?" She asks quietly, looking at me suspiciously, as if she expects me to lie.

I shrugged at her before grabbing a bowl and leaning over the table for the cereal box. "Felt like going for a walk." I mumble. she nods at me, not looking entirely convinced but going along with the explanation none-the-less. "Got any plans for the weekend?" I inquire as she finishes and puts her empty bowl in the dishwasher.

To my surprise, she blushes and looks down at the floor, evidently uncomfortable. "Well, uh... its... Emmett's prom on Friday." she does not look at me while she speaks and turns away sharply, trying to occupy herself by stuffing books into her bag.

I frown. "I'd forgotten Emmett was older then you." She turns and gives me a half smile. "What's wrong? Shouldn't a sophomore be stoked to go to senior prom?" A bizarre thought crosses my mind. "He did ask you to go with him, right?" If some senior thinks he can go around playing with my sister's affections.... they'll be one dead senior.

An embarrassed, ashamed expression crosses her face and she murmurs something incomprehensible. I ask her to repeat herself and she closes her eyes.

"It costs a lot of money to go to prom." she admits finally, and my heart breaks at how upset she sounds. "And I know that you're worried about money."

"Oh Rose." I feel another stab at my heart strings. I step closer to her and place my arms across her shoulders. "We can afford to send you to the prom."

Her eyes light up and she gives me a true smile. "Really?"

I grin right back at her. "Yes." my expression gets harder. "Just promise not to buy a million dollar gown. And under no circumstance to you even think about going to a hotel room after." I remember my own prom and I do not want my baby sister taking part in any of the post-prom rituals that went down when I was in school.

She shoves me away from her. "Emmett's having an after-party at his house." She leaves the room at that, her bag slung over her shoulder. "And hurry up with breakfeast- we're going to be late."

I watch her go and take another bite of my cereal. The phone rings behind me. I hear Rosalie upstairs holler for me to answer it. I yell something back about how unhelpful teenagers today are before dumping the remains of my cereal in the sink and grabbing the phone from its cradle.

"Hello?" I answer quickly. Its seven fourteen and we should head out within the next ten minutes. I really hope this phone call doesn't tie me up for that long.

"Is this Mr. Jasper Hale that I'm speaking with?" The voice on the other end asks, annoying me for several reasons. One, no should be allowed to talk that perky before ten AM. And two; my name is Jasper Whitlock. Walter Hale was a great guy, but he is not by biological father.

I sigh into the phone. This is one of those calls that I'm going to regret answering. I try to keep the annoyance out of my voice. "My name is actually Jasper Whitlock." I say evenly.

The overly perky woman gives a small gasp. "Are you Rosalie Hale's brother?"

Rosalie's name piques my interest. I at first thought she was some crazy bitch trying to sell me a subscription to somthing. 'Yes I am."

"My name is Mrs. Sawyer, and I'm the guidance counsler down at FHS."

I remember Mrs. Sawyer. She used to call me down and have indepth conversations with me regarding my descion to join the Army. She called me Hale every time then too. Another thing about her that irks me is the way she calls the school 'FHS.' If any random stranger heard that name they'd think she was talking about some really important office, possibly government related. In reality, she talking about Forks High School, the most boring, bland place to work in the continental United States.

"What can I do you you Mrs. Sawyer?" I try not to laugh as I remember how me and my classmates always referred to her as 'Tom' in private because of both her name and her uncanny resemblance the janitor who seeped the gym after school.

"I'd like to meet with you if that's okay? How's today, at noon?"

Her question, still presented with her perky disposition, surprises me. What does Rosalie's guidance counselor want with me? Maybe it had something to do with college, and her volleyball scholarship. Still feeling uncertain, I tell Mrs. Tom-Sawyer that noon is just fine and I hang up the phone as she tells me have a 'most charming morning.' Jeez, people like her really shouldn't be allowed to go out in public before ten. Someday she might just get shot by some poor guy having a bad morning.

"Who was on the phone?" Rosalie asks as we drive out away from the house. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Telling my sister that I'm meeting with her counselor might not be the best idea. I decide that honesty is the best policy though.

"It was uh, Sawyer. You know," I pause, inhaling uneasily. "That guidance person at the school." I do my best to avoid using the term 'counselor.'

Her spins around at once. "What would Sawyer want with me?" Her voice is slightly anxious. "I haven't done anything thing wrong."

I give her a glance out of the corner of my eye. Her forehead is creased with worry. "Maybe, eh.." I search for something to say. "Maybe it has something to do with making up exams? Or a volleyball scholarship program?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Rosie answers, her voice still harsh. "What did she say?"

I tell her about the meeting at noon. She gives me an outraged look any makes me promise to say nothing but good things about her. When I drop her off at school she has a concerned look on her face and I see her pull out her cell phone at once and start dialing a number. Emmett's, no doubt. I smile, remembering how it felt like to have a girlfriend to tell important news to. I wondered who I would tell now if something exciting happened to me.

An image came to mind, but it was the image of a person who I had been trying unsuccessfully to forget for the past twelve hours.

_Later_

"Hey Pete!' I holler loudly, trying to get voice heard above the hum of the engine. "Pete!"

Pete finally does turn around and turns off the machine, looking at me expectantly.

"I've gotta take my lunch early. Meetin' with Rose's guidance coun'sler today." I know that while Pete will have no problem with me leaving, he will act like it deeply effects the way his business will run.

"Whitlock!" he says sharply, trying to look stern but unable to keep a mischievous glint out of his eyes. "Its your first day of work and your cutting out early?" He shakes his head in feign disbelief. "Its a good thing I like you, or your ass would be fired in no time, cowboy."

I flash him a crazed smile and wipe off my hands. "You'd never fire me, you great ol' softly." I tease him lightly. He pretends to throw a wrench at me and I chuck my greasy towel at him in return. Charlotte comes out an interrupts our skirmish, trying to look above it all but looking thoroughly amused. She and Pete are made for each other.

"Newton's are bringing their van around at three." she tells Pete, handing him a cup of coffee. She offers me one and I take it gladly, dipping my head to her thankfully. "And the Stanley's say that the station wagon you sold them a few months back is giving them trouble."

"That station wagon was in perfect condition!" Peter protests indignantly. "Mr. Stanley rides his breaks- I've been saying it for years."

Pete goes on about Mr. Stanley unsatisfactory treatment of his vehicle for several more minutes and I drink my coffee and try not to laugh. Charlotte patiently listens to his entire rant, throwing in a supporting "Yes, dear," or "I totally agree with you." when necessary. I grin at her as well and hand her my empty.

"Thanks so much Charlotte." I say gracefully. "I'll be back around one thirty, hopefully."

Pete swears at me and rants about less that satisfactory help and Charlotte slaps him. He chuckles darkly and makes his way back to the engine he's working on, murmuring something under his breath about abusive spouses. Charlotte watches him ago affectionately.

"You and Rosalie should come to dinner on Thursday." she tells me seriously. I tell her I will and make my way into the truck.

The journey to the school doesn't take that long. I listen to an old Tom Petty song along the way and hum along, flicking on the windshield wipers (its raining again, of course). I hesitate for a moment when I pull into the parking lot, not sure of where to park my car. I finally decide on just leaving it at the end of the student lot, which unfortunately gives me enough time to get thoroughly soaked on the walk into the administration office.

When I walk in I am so much reminded of my high school days that I almost wish I was back here. Seeing a student spill angrily out of what I know to be the principal's office takes this thought away as quickly as it came. I walk up to the secretary's desk. Our secretary has been here since the 70s and I doubt she'll ever leave. Her name is Mrs. Cooper and she happens to love me. When I was a senior she used to buy my friends and I doughnuts during her lunch break and let us sit in her office and eat them.

"Jasper Whitlock!" she cheers in excitement, and I can't help but smile. She always gets my name right. "Its so good to see you, and looking so grown and handsome!"

"Its great to see you Mrs. Cooper." I tell her politely, leaning casually against her desk.

Mrs. Cooper shakes her head at me and begins rummaging through her drawers. "Now, you're not a student here anymore. I insist you call me Nancy." he face looks serious for a moment but her eyes are soft and playful. "What can I do for you, dear?" she hands me a stick of peppermint from her desk and I take it without question.

"I'm hear to see T- I mean, Mrs. Sawyer." I slip up and almost use Sawyer's nickname. Nancy smiles knowingly and I'm sure she's heard the name from somewhere before.

"Yes, I see that here." she puts on her glasses and frowns at the computer. Frankly, I think its an achievement that she can even know how to operate it. "Hears a vistor's pass for you- you do know where her office is Jasper dear?"

I nod at her and take the pass. She smiles warmly at me.

"If you stick around, I'm making a stop at the bakery in twenty minutes."

I promise her to stick around before leaving her office and heading down the hall to the hell hole that is Mrs. Sawyer's room.

When I was sixteen, she called me in here to ask how I was coping with the move. The next year, when she heard I planning to join the Army, she called me to ask if I was feeling depressed. It amused me to think that you say you want to join the army and the first thing that comes to mind is that you want to off yourself. In my last year, she called me in to talk about any final educational ventures I wanted to achieve. That was an awkward visit, but I prolonged to get out of taking an pop quiz in English.

And now I was back.

The woman sitting across from me had to be well into her fifties, with straw colored hair that she kept pulled tightly behind her. She wore a bright knitted sweater and her room was decorated with various banners and flags from colleges that her students had gone of to attend. A picture of a large, fat cat was proudly displayed beside that of her large, beefy husband.

"Mr. Hale." she says brightly, if not more perky than how she sounded five hours ago.

"Whitlock." I correct her once more, getting irritated at how many times she needs to be reminded of my name. When I was a senior half of my paperwork was written out for Jasper Whitlock and the other half for Jasper Hale. At graduation my name got called with the Hs and the Ws.

"Whitlock?" she looks back at her paperwork. I suppress a groan. "Ah yes, my mistake." she sets the paperwork back down and folds her hands over them, giving me what should have been an encouraging smile but came out looking like a sinister grin. "Now, how are you feeling?"

"How am I feeling?" I repeat quietly. "About what?" I thought she had called me in to discuss Rosalie, not my current state of mind.

She gave me and incredulous look." Well, I thought it was be obvious, Jas-a-per." I did not like the way she my name; She annunciated it to a point at which she gave in an extra syllable. Her expression turned and her voice got low and candy sweet. "How are you feeling about the tragedy that has befallen your family?"

Now I really do groan. She must take this as a depressed stutter because her eyes well with tears. Here I was, thinking this meeting was about a scholarship for Rosalie, when in reality I'm sitting hear listening to her talk about the _tragedy that has befallen my family_. I'm urged to flip her off but her repress it my clenching my fist.

"I don't see how that's any of your business." I answer flatly, using all my self control to keep the hostility out of my voice.

"Quite the contraire, it is absolutely by business." she gives me a concerned stare. "After all, you are the sole care giver for one of my students now, and given you current lifestyle-"

"What do you mean, 'current lifestyle?'" I'm liking this women less by the second.

She adjusts herself in her seat and reaches up to run a hand through her frizzy hair. "You are only twenty years old, after all.' she says, her voice getting soft and quiet again, as if she's talking to a five year old. "The last two years you've spent only taking care of yourself-"

Her last comment her blows it off. I stand up in outrage and glare at her. "Hey!" I spit venomously. "I haven't spent the last two years at some fraternity drinking beer." Even I am taking aback by how hostile I sound. "I've been fighting a fucking war! Don't you dare try and tell me I've only been worrying about myself!" I bellow.

She looks truly frightened and uncomfortable now and tries to mask it by looking concerned. I feel no remorse.

"You see, Mr. Hale, that temper is the reason why I'm concerned. You might not be right to provide the best home environment for Rosalie." Her words only make me angrier, but I try my best to even my tone.

"You mean your going want to take her away from me?" I do not need to be loud; The coolness in my voice chills the room. I lean in closer, drawing myself to my full height, which is much, much taller than Mrs. Tom-Friggen-Sawyer. "You can try. But nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to come between me and Rosalie." I shake my head at her and narrow my eyes. "We're done here."

I turn my back at her and exit the room, hearing her murmur after me in a harry voice "But, Mr. Hale-". The rest is drawn out as the door slams.

I storm out of the administration building in a blind rage, hardly noticing that I'm back outside until I feel the rain on my cheeks. I ignore and continue to march off towards the truck, picture running Mrs. Sawyer over with it, among other ways of torturing her. I'm in such a hurry that I don't notice any of the students going from building to building until I feel someone touch my arm.

Alice.

She looks different in a school environment. Younger. Maybe its the fact that now I know she is only fifteen, or that she is surrounded by so many teenagers. She got a stack of books in her arms and her bag is slung casually over her shoulder. Her short hair is hidden behind the hood of her jacket. She has a worried look on her face and turns and shouts to some lingering students that she will meet them in Spanish. She takes my hand and leads me to the truck, and I follow blindly, wondering where this mesmerizing girl is taking me. We both get in the truck and wipe the rain from our eyes.

"Jasper?" she asks quietly, and the concern is her face astounds me. "What's wrong?"

I blink in shock, not knowing what to say. "What makes you think something's wrong?" I reply slowly.

She gives me a knowing look. "You walk out of the admin. building looking ready to kill whoever happens to get in your way and don't even notice that you're getting completely soaked." Her nose crinkles. "Not to mention the fact that you're muttering something under your breath and look like your talking to yourself like some regular crazy person."

I duck my head in embarrassment and swipe soaked streaks of blond hair out of my eyes. "I met with Sawyer." I admit finally, looking at her bold gaze head on. "First she said that I'm only used to taking care of myself and then suggested that Rosalie be taken out of my guardianship."

Alice's reaction is rather helpful. Her eyes narrow and she says darkly "That bitch." she shakes her head. "A friend of mine was going to key her car. To think that I stopped him."

This makes me smile. "Any idea which car is hers?" I say suggestively, picking up my keys. She rolls her eyes at me and places her hand on top of the keys.

"Jasper, she doesn't know what she's talking about." she tells me sternly. "You'll take perfect care of Rose."

There is so much certainty, so much faith in her eyes that I am momentarily speechless. The keys falter in my palm but I move to grasp Alice's hand now, and for a moment me saw nothing and just stare at our linking fingers.

"Why do you have so much faith in me?" I ask quietly. She looks at me in the eyes and leans in closer. I feel my heart rate increase and any anger I had left in vanishes. Any feeling whatsoever slips right through me.

Her answer is whispered. "I don't know." she says honestly. "But I would like to find out."

I continue to stare deeply into her brown eyes, wondering how I could possibly be feeling this way for a teenager and why it seemed that she was feeling the same things for me. I gripped her hand tighter and seemed unable to do anything except look at her angelic face and lean close to her-

The bell for the beginning of class sounded from outside. It snapped me back to reality and I leaned farther away from her. I hands dropped from each other and the electricity we had previously been experiencing evaporated in seconds.

"You should go." I murmur softly. The bell stops ringing and she picks up her books and back. She reaches for the door to the truck before turning back to look at me and giving a last, challenging look.

"I'll have an answer for you soon." she tells me firmly. She grants me one last smile before sliding out of the truck and up the parking lot towards the buildings. I lean my head back against the window and wonder, slightly dazed and more than a little confused, what the hell just happened.

I'm pulling out the driveway when I remember Mrs. Cooper and her doughnuts. Smiling to myself, I decide that I'm not quite that hungry at the moment anyway.

_End Chapter Two._

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Mrs. Cooper and Sawyer are mine though!**

**Important Note: As of 12:00 noon on ****July 09**** the title of this story will officially be changed to **_**One Last Sunset**_**.**

**In Chapter Three: Rosalie and Emmett are going to prom! What's Jasper to do? Help Alice get the after-party set up, of course! But he's only doing it because Esme asks him to, right?**

**Review.**

**-mayday**


	3. War is Over

_CHAPTER THREE: WAR IS OVER_

_Thursday, May 25, 2006. 6:24 PM_

"What's the theme for prom this year?"

I take another sip of my drink and set the glass down at the table. Tonight was my dinner at Peter's. Rosalie backed out to do some last minute prom preparations. I still felt guilty every time I thought of the look on her face when she confessed that she didn't think we had the money to send her to prom. For a moment I stare, transfixed, at the brown Formica table top.

"The theme," I begin, pushing my empty plate away from me. "Is Christmas."

"Christmas?" Peter repeats, giving me a dumbstruck look. "Its May. The only reason to have a Christmas party not in December is if its in July. Who the hell wants to celebrate Christmas in May?" he shakes his head and reaches for his beer. I was hoping that Peter would let me indulge tonight, but he'd only said that he would not be involved in the corruption of today's youth. I know he could care less if I had a beer and he was only denying me because he knew it would irritate me.

"Maybe the senior representatives are all on crack?" I suggest lightly, accepting a slice of apple pie from Charlotte with a smile. I grin lethargically. "I know my student government was all on crack."

Pete rolls his eyes. "Your whole senior class was on crack." he too receives his pie with a thankful murmur to his wife. "Rosalie got any big plans afterward?"

I sigh and take a bite of the pie. Like all else of Charlotte's cooking, its delicious. "She going to some after party at Emmet's." Emmett's name comes out sounding surprisingly cold. Charlotte noticed and smirked.

"Don't like the boy?" She says with a knowing look in her eye. "My older brother always made an art form out of hating every guy I ever dated."

"Its not that I don't like him." I insist, swallowing more of the god-like pie. "I don't really know him. And he's older than her, you know. He's a senior." Two years doesn't really seem like that much, but I think that I'll come with a reason to hate any guy that dates Rosalie. I'm the older brother. Its my job.

"Char and me are four years apart." Peter reminds me, taking his wife's hand and smiling tenderly at her. I had forgotten this. I knew that Charlotte was young, but I had forgotten how much younger she was. Come to think of it, I recalled her college graduation party being last spring.

"Age is a funny thing." I agree. "I mean, the difference between thirty and thirty five is like nothing. But the difference between, say, fifteen and twenty..." I trail off, beginning to think that I've said to much. I don't know how the age difference Alice and myself suddenly popped into my head, but I didn't like the ideas my mind was creating. Under no circumstances would a relationship between us ever feel morally correct.

"Speaking of fifteen year olds," Pete says, and I'm suddenly feeling paranoid. Had he heard something? Then again, was there really anything to hear? "Shouldn't you be going to pick up Rosalie soon?"

I glance down at the watch. Its six forty two.

"Damn, I'm gonna be late." I swear. I was supposed to pick Rosalie up at Emmett's at quarter to seven. I was going to have to rush to make it in a reasonable tally of tardiness. "Thank you so much for dinner Charlotte, it was wonderful." I bow my head to Peter's wife and she just shakes her head at me.

"Come again, with Rosalie." she insists as I shrug into my jacket. "And when you go to the boyfriend's, ring the bell. That way you could actually meet him."

Her plan sounded like a good idea to me, so I thanked her again and told Peter I'd see him at work tomorrow. I exited my friend's small but comfortable home beside the garage and made my way over to my truck. It was raining again, but I did not put my hood on or increase my pace. I was beginning to like the feeling of the rain on my head. Tuning into a Beatles song on the radio, I drove over to where Emmett's house was. I smiled when I remembered that the only reason I knew where Emmett's house was located was because of Alice. For some reason, thinking about Alice only strengthened my reasons to enter Emmett's house.

I pulled up after the long dirt road and turned off the ignition. Looking in the mirror, I tried to fix my hair a little and look slightly more presentable. There was a chance I would run into Alice's, well, Emmett's parents. On the walk to the front door, I tried to convince myself that this visit was about Rosalie, not Alice. Definitely not Alice.

Under the protection of the porch roof, I shook some water out of my hair and rang the bell. I heard loud chimes sound inside the house, and at once was under the impression that the Cullen family had money. A lot of money. This irked me for some reason. I guess it was because I could hardly afford to send my sister to prom, whilst these Cullen's could afford the vastly elaborate landscaping that surrounded their home.

"Hello, how can I help you?" the door creaked about and a tall man who looked to be in his forties appeared. He had a very calm, easing going voice and an overall pleasant aura engulfing him.

"Oh, um, hello sir." Suddenly I didn't know what to say. Maybe I should have thought this through a little better. "I'm, uh, Jasper Whitlock." I saw a blank look on his face. Once again, my unfamiliar last name distanced me from Rosalie. "Rosalie Hale's brother.' I added.

The man's face at once lighted in recognition. "Ah, of course!" he exclaimed. "I'm Carlisle Cullen, Emmett's father. Please do come in. My wife and I have been looking forward to meeting you." Carlisle held the door open for me and I thanked him before entering the home. If the outside was any indication that this family had money, it was nothing compared to the inside. It was furnished in the likes of a picture out of a magazine.

"Esme!" Carlisle called, gesturing me to take a seat on the sofa. "Would you come to sitting room, dear?" He sat in a great armchair across from me and folded his arms. Soon, a pretty woman around Carlisle's age with wavy brown hair entered the room.

"And who is this, Carlisle?" she asked politely, seating herself on a rocking chair beside her husband.

I stood up at once upon her arrival and dipped my head to her. Carlisle gave me a confused look. He probably didn't know I was from the South. "I'm Rosalie's brother, m'am." I explained, offering her my hand. "Jasper Whitlock."

"Esme Cullen." she said, with a warm smile that rivaled that of her husband. "Its great to finally meet you."

"So Jasper," Carlisle began as I retook my seat on the couch. "What brings you to our home?"

The extreme formality of Emmett's father was starting to annoy me, but I let it slide. "Emmett's taking my sister to the prom tomorrow." I said. "I figured I should probably meet his parents. And him, I guess." Carlisle chuckled. "I'm new to this whole parent thing, but I'm pretty sure my parent's met my prom date." I searched my head and tried to remember the evening of my own prom. "I think."

Esme laughed good naturedly. "Of course." she said. "I would just like to take this moment and tell you how very sorry we both are about your parents."

I suppress a sigh. How long will I have to wait until people stop mentioning Mom and Walter? Two months? Two years? I get that people want to sympathize and show support, but don't they realize that every time they bring it up its just another kick in the head? Call it unnatural, but maybe if I can go about two hours without people bringing it up it might give me the slightest bit of closure.

I am spared of having to make some sort of awkward reply by the arrival of Alice Cullen. She's dressed in short plaid pajama bottoms and a baggy sweat shirt. Seeing her in pajamas, around her parents, makes me feel extremely uncomfortable, and for a moment I wish I could just have more irritating small talk about my dead parents. She sits casually beside me on the couch any my heart rate accelerates. Doesn't she know that her closeness is killing me, especially seeing as her naked thigh is practically brushing my leg?

"I didn't know Jasper was coming over." she says, her voice still sounding as bright and sugary as the first time I met her.

"We were just talking about the prom." Esme explains, and I suddenly don't remember anything about the prom, or anything about why the hell I'm in this house, sitting on the pouch next an immorally hot fifteen year old girl with wearing the shortest pajamas I've ever seen. "What's the theme again?"

"Christmas." Alice supplies, and I'm glad she does, because my throat is so dry that I doubt any sane word could escape it.

"Christmas?" Carlisle repeats. "That's a rather odd prom theme." He looks thoughtful and ponderous.

"The senior class is all on crack." Alice announces, tucking a strand of hair behind her hair. I'm reminded of the first night I met her, and recall how she touched her hair when she was nervous. Good. At least I wasn't the only one freaking out. Alice was just a better actress.

"Alice!" Esme exclaims, sounding horrified. "Why on earth would you say that?'

"Relax." Alice coys at once. "I didn't say Emmett was on crack."

"Why are you talking about me being on crack?"

I turn to a hallway behind and get my first glimpse of the infamous Emmett Cullen. He's tall, over six foot, but not quite as tall as me. He has broad shoulders, and a heavy build, but something tells me that I could still take him. If all else fails, I do happen to have a hunting rifle in the basement. Not that I'd ever have to kill Rosalie's boyfriend though. I hoped not; the guy was huge.

Alice smirks on him. "Paranoid, Emmett?"

Emmett's eyes narrow. "Pint sized, Alice?"

"Hey!' Carlisle interrupts. "Emmett, is this anyway to behave around your girlfriend's older brother?"

"Rosie's brother?" Emmett stammers out at once. "O-Oh."

I rise to my feet once more, but this time its not out of respect. I want to raise myself to my full height. Emmett needs a little scare about now.

"Jasper Whitlock." I offer him my hand. "Rosalie's told me so much about.' He tentatively gives me his hand and I grasp it firmly. He looks like a deer in headlights. I see Alice laughing silently behind Emmett's back. "I would have met you sooner, but I've been away. You know,' I widen my eyes for emphasis. "In the Army."

Emmett gives a nervous laugh. Alice smiles at me.

'Jasper, what the heck are you doing?" Rosalie has entered the room. Her arms are folded across her chest and she looks furious. I smirk.

"Just chatting with your boyfriend.' I say, giving her a good natured smile. Emmett shrinks closer to her. "I think we're getting along great, right Emmett?"

Emmett looks terrified at being put on the spot, but manages to mutter out.a brief. 'Yup. Best of friends." Alice shakes her head from her spot on the couch.

"It was great to meet you." I tell Esme and Carlisle. "But Rosalie and I gotta get going. It is a school night and all."

"Yes, of course." Esme agrees.

Rosalie goes to give Emmett a kiss, but he backs of furtively, shooting me a hasty, scared glance. Alice and I exchange smirks whilst Carlisle watches with an amused expression on his face.

"If there's anything I can do for you tomorrow, to prepare for the party, please let me know." I offer kindly to Esme. She tells me that she will and Rose and I say good night to the Cullen house.

It is a very quiet car ride home.

_Friday, May 26, 2006. 4:38 PM._

"Alice, get in one with your brother! Emmett, stop making that face! Your grandmother is going to see these pictures."

I'm at the Cullen house once again, and Esme is in full mother mode, brandished her digital camera in a way that makes me wary and reminiscent of the War. Alice, who's dressed casually in a pair of jeans, reluctantly steps beside Emmett, who's looking clean cut and decent in a fancy tuxedo. Next to her giant of a brother, Alice looks positively minuscule. Esme snaps a picture of them sporting fake smiles and then turns to me.

"Jasper and Rosalie."

Deciding that refusing would be a bad idea, I step into the vacancy where Emmett and Alice had stood and leaned an arm across my sister, who looked beautiful in a dress of pure gold. I flashed a rare, genuine smile at the camera and thought that maybe this could be the turning point, where everything could finally start looking up. Summer would be starting soon, and Rosalie and I could finally just relax and move on with our lives.

Within the next fifteen minutes, a limo arrives filled with Emmett's friends. They are all seniors, most of them jocks. Rosalie is the youngest one, though she doesn't seem at all uncomfortable around the older kids. She runs at once into the arms of the other girls and insists that Emmett take a picture of the lot of them together. After a variety of poses involving the entire group, they all exit and depart for the prom.

Esme claps her hand together upon their departure. "Alright, now its crunch time." She goes into the kitchen and I hear her rummaging through a cabinet. "Alice, start stringing those Christmas lights on the stair case. Jasper, dear, I'd appreciate it if you could help her."

Alice and I work together on untangling several strands of Christmas lights.

"So, your mom's continuing the theme at your house?" I inquire.

Alice gives a tired laugh. "Yeah. She's going way over the top. You know what she's doing in the kitchen? Baking Christmas cookies! Its the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." She glances towards the kitchen and lowers her voice. "The only thing that Emmett's friends are gonna care about is whether or not there's any cold beer." She pauses to shake her coil of lights to get rid of a stubborn tangle.

"You know my baby sister's coming to this party, right?" I ask her. "So try to avoid mentions of teenage drinking in front of me. I don't talk about drinking in front of your dad."

"Yeah, well you're different." Alice argues. "I mean, you're only like, two years older than Emmett. There's people your age going to this prom." She plugs in the cord of lights, and we notice all too late that they are burned out. Alice sighs and tosses them aside, reaching for another strand.

"Huh." I reply, feeling oddly uncomfortable. "But, I mean, they aren't taking fifteen and sixteen year olds."

Alice gives me a fleeting look, before shooting me a small smile. "I wouldn't see any problem in them doing so." She plugs the lights into the wall, and they illuminate in bright shades of fluorescent blue, green, red, pink, and gold. She smiles delightedly at them and then looks back up at me. "Come on soldier," she tugs on my hand. "Let's string up these lights."

Together, Alice and I decorate the staircase with three different light strands, and by the time we are done the whole steps are glimmering, and the lights are reflecting in the shine of the recently polished wood of the railings, making the entire surface gleam like multi-colored glass. Esme comes in and tells us what a great job we did, and then asks us to start hanging up wreaths and candles in all the windows.

"She is going out of her mind!" Alice exclaims as we trudge up the stairs carrying cardboard boxes filled with wreaths and those fake electrical candles. "Do you know how many windows are in this house? Newsflash- Its not really Christmas!" She sets down her box violently, and I hear several candles clang together. Folding her hands, she gives the long expanse of windows down the luxurious hallway a wary look. "It'll be December by the time we finish decorating!"

I look at her in disbelief. "Now you're exaggerating." I set down my own box and extract a large wreathe, adorned with a fancy gold bow. "It'll be Thanksgiving at the latest." She whips my arm with the cord to one of the candles and I laugh coolly at her before we move on to the window. The task is long and tedious, but its spent with decent company. I get another gilmpse of the Cullen's house, and now I am certain that Dr. Cullen makes some serious cash. The closet at the end of the hall is bigger than my bedroom.

There is one room that interests me the most- Alice's. Lucky for me, it faces the front drive, so Esme insists that we decorate her window. Grumbling as she does it, Alice opens the door to her room and I eagerly step inside. I've always thought that a person's room tells a lot about who the person is. Her room is painting a faint lilac color, and a handsome four poster bed, which is about twice that size of mine, stands proudly along the back wall. Alice dumps the candel box on it and give me a hesitant look.

"What are you looking at?" she asks me.

"Why don't you have any posters up?" I inquired, gesturing to the bare, painting walls. My room at fiftten was covered wall to wall with bands, flyers, pictures, and message boards.

Alice rolls her eyes. "Dear Esme doesn't want me to ruin the paint job. Like a poster is really gonna do any harm." She gives me an excited look. "I do have my own small rebellion though." She crosses the room and I follow her, watching as she opens up a closet door. And then I gasp. Her entire closet is covered in writing and paint. I recognize song lyrics, signatures, and random thoughts. There are some doodles and comics and other amusing drawings on the back wall.

"This is a cool closet." I tell her earnestly. "What would Esme do if she found out?"

"Esme, oh, she'd freak." Alice laughs slowly. "But she isn't going to find out."

'Hey, why do you call her Esme?" I sudden wonder. "How come you never call her mom?"

A sad look comes across her face and suddenly I feel awkward and that I may have crossed a line.

"Um, Esme's actually my aunt." she replies quietly. "My parents died a long time ago. Fire."

"Oh shit." I say, and she laughs shortly at my response. "Me of all people should not be inquirng about parents."

"No, its okay." Alice says thoughtfully. "Because, you see, now, when I tell you that I understand what you're going through, you'll know that I'm telling the truth."

Her words echo to me, and I remember what she said to me, the first night I met her, when we had dinner at the restaurant. She looked nervous and told me she was sorry about my parents. Now I realize that she actually was sincere, not like everyone else who thought that if they didn't bring up my dead parents every couple of days they'd feel too guilty. I reach out and place a hand on her shoulder.

'Yeah." I murmur quietly. "You're right."

We stand there, not saying anything, for what could be several minutes. Alice closes her eyes, and I do not release my grip on her shoulder. Not until we are interrupted, by none other than Esme herself.

"Oh hey there, you two. I was wondering if you could go pick up some more chips at the convenient mart?" She says in a way that shows there is no room for anyone to disagree. Alice shoots me a apathetic smile and I release her arm.

The drive to the convenient store is brief and enjoyable. I try to get her to listen to another Dylan song, but she objects and changes the station to a song by an unfamiliar band that I don't recognize. The song is not altogether unpleasant, and try to focus on the lyrics, whilst Alice bangs her head up and down to the beat.

"Do you know what this song is about?" I ask her, starting to pick up that the lyrics are basically describing a not so-innocent between a boy and some girl.

"I never listen to lyrics." Alice yells to me, turning the volume of louder and shaking her short hair around. "Its all about the music!"

I take my eyes of the road to grin and laugh at her, before focusing back on the road ahead. We reach the store and buy two big bags of regular potato chips, one regular, one wavy, because while I like the wavy ones, Alice is old school and only goes for the flat ones. We spent a good five minutes arguing about before the people in the store started giving us funny looks. We compromised by buying both.

When we re-enter Alice's house, it is evident from the moment we walk in the Esme has been busy every since we left. The couch in the living room has disappeared and an old card table surrounded by folding chairs has taken its place. She fastening what looks like mistletoe to the ceiling. In the background, I notice Christmas music playing from the elaborate stereo system on a stand in the wall.

"Wow, you've really outdone yourself." Alice says sincerely, and she turns to the take the whole room in. The effect is rather warming. A fire is burning in the fireplace, and a few stocking are hung around the chimney. "Chestnut's Roasting on an Open Fire" is playing pleasantly through the stereo, and there is a strange, pine scent to the air.

Esme looks at Alice, with a flattered expression. "Do you think so?" she looks positively delighted. She glances at her watch. 'Oh dear. There's only about an hour left until they should be back. She sweeps the room with her eyes. "You know, I think I have more tinsel in the attic. Excuse me." Then she darts off up the stairs. The sound of her heels soon vanish, and Alice and I are left alone in the beautifully decorated living room. "Chestnuts" ends, and the opening chords to my favorite Christmas song begin. I feel a sudden thrill in my heard.

"This is my favorite Christmas song." I inform Alice softly, taking a step closer to her. This whole evening is becoming a blur to me, but the way the Christmas lights are reflecting in Alice's eyes is just drawing me closer to her.

"John Lennon." she gives a small chuckle. "I always had you begged for a Lennon fan." She moves closer still to me.

I breath a small tuff of laughter. "Yeah.' I whisper serenly.

Alice leans forward suddenly and grasps my hands in hers, than looks up to the ceiling, and then to me eyes.

"Look," she commands quietly. "Mistletoe."

I do not bother to look. I don't even know how to look at anything else other than the amazing girl in front of me. The scent of pine and peppermint is starting to make me dizzy, and the lights around us blur my eyes. So I close them, and lean my head down to Alice, and she stands on her toes and presses her lips against mine.

And at that moment, it does not matter that I'm twenty and she's fifteen. It doesn't matter that I've got a baby sister to look after, or that my parents are dead. The only thing that I am sensing is that Alice's lips are on mine, and that her hands are in my hair, and John Lennon is singing in my ears telling me that war is over, and for one fucking minute it really is Christmas, and I'm kissing a beautiful girl under the mistletoe.

_End Chapter Three_

**In Chapter Four: In response to their kiss, Jasper makes a firm resolution to distance himself from Alice for her own good. But it proves harder than he expects when he saves her from a compromising and potentially dangerous situation. In the aftermath, he and Alice final discuss their complex and seemingly forbidden relationship, and whether or not they should risk moral and legal boundaries to pursue each other.**

**Reviews are like presents, I and just turned sixteen, so make me happy!**

**-Mayday**


	4. Chills

**Disclaimer: Haven't done one of these in a while, so its probably due time for one. I don't own Twilight, or any refrences to works of literature, music, ect. They all belong to Stephanie Meyer and their respective creators.**

**Brief A/N: I'll save the real comments for the end as always, but I just want to comment that this is the last chapter of the introduction part of the story. The time frame will start to jump after this chapter and the pase will really pick up.**

ONE LAST SUNSET

CHAPTER FOUR... CHILLS

_Friday, May 26, 2006. 11:49 PM_

It was time again for a cold shower.

Whenever something that I feel could alter my life in any sort of substantial manner happens, I like to a cold shower. Nothing helps you to contemplate what you're doing with your life more than freezing droplets of icy water dripping down your face and chilling your spinal chord. Its impossible to be completely relaxed in a cold shower. In a way, I guess you could say its a bit of a self-punishment. So I spin the dial to icy cold whenever I find myself confronted with a situation that I can't back away from.

Like, kissing a fifteen year old girl, for example.

Don't take that the wrong way. Alice is the only fifteen year old girl I've ever kissed. And she's going to be the last. I'm not going to turn into one of those creepers that lingers outside of parks and gas stations. The kiss that Alice and I shared was brought to an abrupt halt when the honking sounds of a limo full of teenagers was heard from the outside. It was then that the gravity of the circumstances hit me; I was kissing my sister's best friend. I was twenty, she was fifteen. No matter how you spun it, it never sounded good.

I flew out of there as fast as I could, saying goodbye to Esme, telling Rosalie to behave, and trying to ignore Alice's gaze.

Now, taking my cold shower, I decided to go over in my mind what had taken place in the living room of the Cullen home. Perhaps, given the stimulants, it was just a small slip of judgment in my conscience. The haze of the Christmas lights. The mildly intoxicating scents of peppermint and pine. John Lennon crooning in my ear. The freakin' mistletoe over our heads. Ugh. I kissed her under the mistletoe. How terribly cliche. Mentally, I scorn myself. It shouldn't matter how cliche it is. Even if Alice and I shared a kiss in one of the coolest, most spontaneous ways, it still would not have been any better. She was still going to be a fifteen year old girl.

Finishing my shower, I exit the bathroom and make my way slowly into my bedroom. Rosalie won't be coming home tonight. She is staying over at the Cullen's. Suddenly, I become paranoid. What if Alice tells Rosalie what happened? Worse, what if she told her parents? I wasn't sure if kissing a fifteen year was neccessarily enough to put me behind bars, but I doubt the Cullens would be rolling out another welcome wagon if they heard the news. Shaking my head and wondering how I could possibly have gotten myself into such a fix, I opened my closet and donned some loose fitting sweatpants and an old T-shirt.

With a jolt, I remember the little bottle a vodka that I bought at this liquor store that never cards anyone. I was never much for straight vodka, or the burning feeling in my throat when I drank it. But I was a fan of the relaxation and ease it could sometimes inflict upon my aching mind. Deciding that I might as well add underage drinking to my list of felonies, I open my sock drawer and fumble around until my fingers grasp the tiny bottle. I head to the kitchen and reach for a glass and some ice. I fill the glass half-way and take a deep breath.

I was going to stay as far away from Alice Cullen as I possibly could. There was nothing else to it.

With this thought firmly in my mind, I rose the glass to my lips and drained it.

_Saturday, May 27, 2006. 6:24 AM_

I wake up at an early hour the next morning. I had been hoping that the small amount of alcohol I'd consumed would help coax me into a deeper, undisturbed sleep. Yet nightmares still plagued me, and I still woke sweating and shaking. Realizing at once that it was much too early to begin the day, I rolled over and attempted to go back to sleep. After fifteen minutes this idea bored me so I got out of bed and dressed in a T-shirt and an old pair of basketball shorts. I laced up my old running shoes and headed for the front door.

I used to be really into running. I was on the cross country team back in high school, and was pretty decent. I even went to State one year. My exercise had been extremely lax since I'd come home and I was determined to get back in shape. I began to run at a steady pace up to one of the trails in the mountains. I loved hearing the slap of my sneakers against the rough pavement and the heavy laboring of my own breath. When I ran, I could pretend like I had a destination. Like I was running to something, or sometimes from something. Nothing matttered but me in the trail.

I'd never bothered to track how far in the trails led into the woods; I knew eventually that it veered off into the road, and that said road was about four miles from my house. Deciding that I would not be able to make it that far, I turned around at a fixation of stone and heading back home. I showered again, this time in warm water. Running always left me feeling tired and drained, but at the same time, it always gave me a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment that it was difficult to come by in anything else.

After my shower, I went downstairs in the search of a some breakfeast. Settling on a bagel, I sat down in the recliner in the living room and channel surfed until I found a rerun of a sitcom my friends and I used to watch in high-school. The main character was deciding to abandon going to college to stay and help out at his house with his sick father. I wondered briefly how something so major could be made in to such a light-hearted, at times hysterical scene.

The morning went on. Around eleven, Rosalie called and asked me to come pick her up. I waited for her in the drive and did not go up to the front door.

"How was it?" I asked her with a smile, noticing the exhausted look on my sister's face. She entertained me with prom stories for the majority of the ride. She and Emmett had a great time. The DJ had played terrible music, but she had suffered through it. The food was lously, but then again, it always is at school functions. The after party had been fun as well. They stayed up until six watching old horror films.

"You and Emmett stayed up all night?"I attempted to ask casually, but my older brother status was beginning to perk up. I had not been crazy about the idea of Rosalie staying at her boyfriend's house on prom night, but she'd insisted that she would be staying with Alice and the girls downstairs and Emmett and the guys would remain upstairs. I'd caved when she asked me if I thought Dr. Cullen would allow a coed sleepover in his living room.

Rosalie swatted me on the arm. "Emmett and the guys fell asleep at quarter to four.' she rolled her eyes. "Amatuers."

I grinned at her. "Hey," I began suddenly. "I've been thinking- what are your feelings on dogs?"

She rose her eyebrows at me. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean?" I inquired sarcastically. "Are you pro or con to dogs?"

"What kind of question is that?" Rosalie exclaimed. "How could I be pro dog?"

"If I brought a dog home, would you kick it?" I asked in exasperation.

Her facial features changed to one of excitement. "You wanna get a dog?"

"Yeah." I'd been thinking about it for a while. It would be nice to have a little more life in the house. "A border terrier, like the one we used to have in Texas. A puppy, maybe." Rosalie gave an excited ramble after this about how she'd always wanted a dog and that she would love a little terrier. I laughed, but was also slightly disturbed, because once again, Rosalie was acting like a child. And to think Alice was younger than her. Maybe I was some kind of pedophile...

"We should check out the pet shop in Port Angeles." Rosalie went on. "Or even in Seattle. I could go online too, if that works out better."

I smiled at her. "Whatever you want." I listened to Rosalie's excited chatter about pet stores and dog crates for the remainder of the ride home. It was only when she brought up her plans for the evening that I interjected.

"So, " she began. "Alice is gonna stay over tonight and we're going to watch the sequel to one of the movies we watched last night."

I felt myself get suddenly jerked into an unpleasant, semi- heart attack like state of mind. Alice Cullen could not possibly come to my home, let alone stay the night. How could I resist her being so close to me, in those revealing pajamas as well! I tried to quickly think of an excuse.

"Aren't you pretty tired?" I asked critically. "I mean, if you stayed up until six, don't you think you should maybe take a break before staying up all night again?" I gave her a hopeful look but she shut we down at once.

"We'll sleep when we're dead." she replied. "And the Cullen's don't mind, we already asked them."

"You invited Alice to sleepover without asking me first?" I'm not trying to be an over baring parent, but I felt that this was something I should have been informed of.

But Rosalie just shot me another you've-got-to-be-kidding-me stare. "If I asked you, would you have said no?" Her tone is cool, her eyes glazed. I should remember that my sister can have quite the temper when she is short on sleep.

"Well, no." I stammered, realizing at once that I had lost. I would not be able to stand myself if I refused to let my sister enjoy her time with her friends. It was about time she had some fun. Rosalie deduced that she was victorious and sat back triumphantly. I rubbed my eyes. "I was going to go play some ball with Peter. You don't mind if I'm not home do you?"

"You mean will Alice and I be okay in the big, scary house with my strong brother to protect me?" Rosalie sneers sarcastically. "You know what, I think we'll live." I laugh weakly at her and pull into the driveway.

It was going to be a long night.

_Later that night. 9:48 PM_

"That was fun." Peter exclaims happily, throwing his bat into the back of my pickup. "We should do it again sometime."

I nod in agreement, placing my glove and the ball into the bed as well. "You play alright, for an old man." I tease lightly, and he grins and shoves me playfully against the truck. We'd just spent the evening playing a game of baseball in the field about a half mile from the garage. We took turns, someone pitching, the other hitting. We even played catch for a while. Sure, it was a little juvenile, but it was a sport that both of us had been supreme at once upon a time, and we made it our goal to play every once and while.

"Hey, bud, you wanna stop at my house on the way back? Char isn't home, so I'll let you have some beer if you want." Peter offered. I was looking forward to reclining in my chair at home, but his offer of booze was quite tempting, so I took him up on it. Pete's wife, while a sweetheart, was very strict about Peter letting me drink. It didn't matter that I was going to be twenty one in November. She wouldn't let me have so much as a sip of wine until I was legal. I think it amused Pete at some times.

We drove down to Peter's and turned on an old movie, settling onto the coach with some nice cold beer in hand. It was a pretty funny movie, and Peter's increasing drunken comments made it all the more entertaining. I was careful with how much I drank; I did have to drive home, after all, and I knew Rosalie would flip shit if I came home drunk. Eventually, at about quarter after eleven, Charlotte came home from an outing with her friends and Pete and I said our goodbyes. The garage was closed on Sunday's, so I told him I would see him on Monday.

When I did get home, it was just about eleven o'clock. I sat in my car and tried to regroup for a moment. I knew that Alice was going to be inside. She was staying the night. I needed to remain calm and think of a game plan. When I walked in, I would exchange greetings with Alice and my sister. Maybe I'd even smile at Alice. Maybe. Then, I'd Rosalie if there was anything she wanted at the convienent store. When she said no, like I knew she would, I would wish them both good, tell them to behave, and go upstairs. I would remain on the second floor of the house until ten tomorrow morning when Dr. Cullen was picking Alice up for church.

That was my plan, and I was sticking to it.

I exited the truck and made my way to the front door. It was locked, so I reached for my keys. That was one thing Rosalie was good at; she always kept the doors locked. Sure, it was annoying sometimes, but it also was a safeguard on my mind. One thing I would not have to worry about was my sister being home alone in an empty, unlocked house. Shaking the rain water from my hair, I pushed the door open and stepped into the front entrance. Turning behind me and locking the door behind me, I scanned the living room and saw the sleek, blonde head of my sister and the dark head of Alice on the couch. The tv was displaying some gruesome looking murder victim, with blood splattered all over his face.

The scene made the hair on the back of neck stand up. I don't know if it reminded me of the Army or the increasingly disturbing dreams I was having. I turned away sharply from the image, feeling queasy.

"Hey Jazz." Rosalie reached over for the remote and paused the tv. The image of the broken body was now frozen in the living room. I tried my best to avoid it. "Something wrong?" she asked cautiously, noticing the look in my eye.

I cleared my throat. "What are you watching?" I indicated towards the sick image on the screen. Rosalie's eyes darted from the television to my face, and then she looked sheepish.

"Just some stupid movie." she said quietly. "I can turn it off, if its bothering you?" she offered at once. I knew she probably suspected that it was upsetting me, but I didn't want to ruin her fun. Alice was eyeing the scene curiously, as if trying to piece together everything she could. I looked pointedly away from her and focused instead on Rosalie.

"That's, uh, that's alright." I protested slowly, reaching up to scratch my head. "I'm just going to go up, and, take a shower. Then maybe read a book or something."

Rosalie nodded at me, still looking mildly concerned. "You should get some sleep." the worry in her tone bothered me. "You've been looking pretty run down lately."

I nodded to her. "You don't want anything snacks or anything, do you?" I asked, almost hoping that she did for an excuse to leave the living room.

Alice flashed me her bright smile and it almost made me weak at the knees. "Oh, I think we're good." she held up a full bag of chips, and gestured to the remainder of the coffee table, which was littered with cookies, pretzels, and a six pack of Red Bull. I had to admit, it was an admirable spread.

"Nice." I mutter gruffly, nodded at my sister and retreating up the steps. I hear Rosalie turn the tv back on. The eerie, foreshadowing music that is played in horror movies reaches my ears. I rub my head tiredly, entering the bathroom for another warm shower.

When I get out of the shower, the eerie music is instead replaced by the horrific, terrified screaming of a young girl. Torn between cutting out my eardrums or shouting at my sister to turn that damn piece of trash off, I settle for slamming my door shut and fumbling quickly for the stereo. I reach blindly into my CD holder and pick one and random, shoving the disk inside the player and hitting play. The opening chords to a Green Day song hits my ears, and I sit back once more. Sure, the loud drumming and guitar hooks are not necessarily best for getting rid of headache's, but I'd rather listen to Billie Joe's voice then the petrified screaming that's coming from downstairs.

I listen to the CD for awhile, not even reaching for the half finished book on my dresser. I lean back on my bed and just try to relax my racing mind. It works for a while. I think back to the time that I bought the CD I was listening to. Me and a buddy from highschool had ditched school and driven down a record store in my mom's station wagon. I was sixteen, and had just got my license. We'd both been scared shitless that our parents were going to find out about our road trip and ground us till school let out. But we made it home by three without any problems, and if my mother ever found out about our adventure, she never mentioned it to me.

The abrupt ending of the CD drags me back to focus. My reverie may have actually turned into an almost sleep like stupor. Now, I look around at the clock, feeling out of place and disoriented. It was quarter to twelve. My mouth still tasted like beer from Peter's house. Feeling slightly nauseous, I made my way back to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I collided with Alice on the way out.

"Oh, sorry, didn't see you there." she apologizes at once, lifted her hands up in surprise. Oh, jeeze. She's back in those awful (insanely hot) pajamas of hers. "I was just, uh, changing into my pajamas."

"I noticed." I replied, in an attempt to remain casual. "You finish the movie?"

"Yup." Alice said, and I was thankful. At least that screaming wouldn't keep me up at night. "And we're just about to put in the sequel." Oh. great.

"Have fun." I manage to give her a small smile. Then I step around and into the bathroom.

"Wait, Jasper, I was wondering if we could talk about last night-" Alice begins, stepping closer to me and placing her hand on my arm.

I shake it off at once. "Last night was a mistake." I say forcefully, looking her head on. "I take full responsibility for it. It shouldn't have happened, and it is never going to happen again." I tear my eyes away from her stunned and slightly hurt face and wretch the bathroom door open before slamming it shut.

A long night indeed.

_Monday, May 30, 2006. 8:43 PM. _

The rest of the weekend passes without much activity. I had a terrible dream Saturday night. Rosalie's dead, broken body flashed in front of my eyes, whilst Alice screamed and screamed and then my mother's car sped of the road and gunshots rang through the air. I awoke screaming and shaking, and was thankful that I'd put my CD player on repeat, because otherwise Rosalie would have heard me.

I went for a long run Saturday morning, and by the time and was home and showered Alice had left. An exhausted Rosalie had slipped past me at the break-feast table and gone straight to her room, where she remained until four thirty that afternoon. I returned the movies she rented to the video store, doing my best not to focus on the images that decorated the covers. We ordered pizza and then Rosalie went to bed at ten thirty. She did still have a week and a half of school, the poor thing. I offered her the day off tomorrow but she insisted on going. What a scholarly girl I've got.

So now, its Monday night, and I'm on my way home Peter's. I went back to the garage after Rosalie and I ate dinner to help Pete out on a special job he needed done by Tuesday morning. When we finished, we hit a few more baseball's and then called it a night. Once again, I forgot to give Peter's his bat back. It was still in the back of my truck. I'd have to remember to return it to him tomorrow.

I was driving casually down the street when I saw it.

Three people were walking down the street, two boys and a girl. The girl was a lot shorter than the boys. She was wearing the royal purple of Forks High, and I could begin to make out a name stitched across the back. The larger of the boys turned to the girl and draped his arm across her shoulder. She forcefully shoved it off. He put his arm around her again, and once again she pushed him away. With her back fully turned to me, I could read the name on her sweatshirt. Cullen.

I think it was then that I hit the brakes, even before the large boy turned to her and shoved her forcefully against the chain link fence that enclosed the surrounded woods from the road. My heart rate accelerated and I leaped from the truck. Chills slithered down my spine, and for a moment it seemed like I couldn't move, couldn't do anything. It passed. Thinking fast, I reached into the trunk and my hands found Peter's baseball bat. I ran forward towards the group, the bat extended in my hand.

"Back off, asshole!" I yelled, approaching the kid in a ferocious, menacing manner. He turned and saw me and a weird look got in his eyes. His gaze flickered between my face and the bat in my hands before he released his hold on Alice's shoulders and moved back towards his friend, smirking. "Alice, get in the truck." I roared, trying to calm down but only feeling my anger increase at the smug look on this kid's face.

To my suprise Alice fixed me with a smouldering stare. I glared right back at her.

"Get in the truck." I repeated evenly, to my best to keep my voice steady.

She held my gaze as she backed away from the fence and broke it when she rounded the truck to the passenger's side and out of sight. I directed my attention back towards the two boys, the smug one in particular.

"Back where I come from," I roar, brandishing the bat overhead like a weapon and drawing myself to my full height, which dwarfed that of the boys beside me. "We have our own set of punishments for people who mistreat women." I stepped closer to the bastard who had shoved Alice, placed the very end of the bat near his chin. "First offense, I break your arm." I spit out at him venomously. "Second offense, I break your skull." I turn now to give the other boy a sweeping stare. "Believe me," my words are slow, deliberate, and full of hate. "There is no third offense."

I hear the horn blaring in the truck. Alice is leaning out the driver's window, yelling frantically for me to stop and to get back in the truck. I give the now slightly trembling boys once last heated stare before lowering my bat and retreating to the truck, throwing the bat into the bed and hurling myself into the driver's seat. I slam on the gas and we tear off down the road. Neither Alice or myself speaks for a long time. Then at last, she breaks the silence.

"Pull over." she speaks out, quietly but steadily.

"What?" I ask her coolly.

"Pull over." she repeats forcefully. "Before you get us both killed." she gives me a dirty look and return it before pulling onto the shoulder of the road and stopping the truck. As soon as the movement stops, she opens her door and exits. Gaping wildly at her, I follow.

"What the hell do you think you're going?" I scream at her, slamming the door angrily and following her out onto the edge of the woods. She turns back at me, a furious look on her face.

"Oh, and the what the fuck do you suppose you're doing?" Her words are spat with hate and with the combination of hearing her curse, it makes me step back. I soon regain my composure.

"Do you have any idea what could have happened back there?" I roar, gesturing wildly in the direction that we left the two boys in.

She laughs mirthlessly. "Nothing was happening! Royce was just playing around!'

"Oh, Royce, is it?" I go on, slightly pleased to have a name to pin on the face of that bastard. "Don't you dare try and tell me nothing was going to happen! He shoved you into the fence and pinned your arms behind your back!" I find it ridiculous that she can't seem to comprehend the gravity of what just happened. I wondered if she was just in shock.

"I would have been fine!" She screeches out, louder than I ever would have expected to hear a girl of her size scream. Thunder booms ominously overhead, and a few rain droplets begin to fall. She turns away from me and places her hands on her head, looking close to tears. "He was walking me home! And what make you think you can come and rescue me, anyway?" her voice has broke now, sounded soft and sad.

"I would have stopped for anybody regardless if it was you." My voice also softens, and I take a tentative step closer to her.

She steps back. "So I had nothing to do with it, of course." she shakes her head, her voice sounded upset and angry once more. "I shouldn't have expected it do have anything to do with me. After all, the other night clearly meant nothing to you, and you obviously want nothing to do with me."

Against my better wishes, I feel myself take another step closer to her, and ever reach over and place a hand on the side of her face. She bites her lip, and to my horror I see that her eyes are glistening with tears.

"The other night," I begin quietly, slowly, softly. "Meant much more to me than it should have. " I look deeply at her, and she closers her eyes. A single tear slips down her face. Wipe it away gently with my thumb.

"So," her voice is thick and sad. "So you regret it?"

"Oh, god no." I protest earnestly, and I see her smile a little. "Its just," I lower my head a little. "You are fifteen. I'm twenty. Twenty year old are supposed to stay away from fifteen year olds. Not to mention the fact that your my sister's best friend, and the sister to her boyfriend-"

She cuts me off. "Thats all and well." she begins. "But need I remind you that in three two short months, I'll be sixteen.' she raises her eyebrows to emphasize this and I can't help but laugh.

"Cause that's so much better." I tease lightly. She coughs and her eyes begin to clear up. I take a deep breath. "Listen Alice," I try to figure out how to word what I want her to know. "Ever since I met you in the diner, I've felt attracted to you. And I've tried to stay away from you, and I've been very unsuccessful."

'Well that wasn't all your fault." her eyes get gently mischievous. "You didn't think I kept wearing those tiny pajamas for, fun did you?"

I let out a painful laugh. "You torture me." she smiles eagerly at me.

"Jasper, I know that we shouldn't be together." she now starts to speak. "But isn't there an exception to every rule? And believe me when I tell you that I'm not just being an immature school girl with a crush. I want to get to know you, Jasper. More than that,' she takes my hand in hers, and I once again marvel at how magnificent her touch is. 'I want to be with you."

I pull her closer to me, until my arms are practically around her. I'm thankful we're in a secluded spot, away from the prying eyes of any passerby. 'Your dad's going to kill me." I whisper at her, and she smiles at me.

"We'll take things slow.' she says firmly, and I nod in agreement. 'We have to explore this. See if there really is something here, or if its all just,' she gives me a sweeping looking. "Physical attraction."

I smirk at her. "I think there's plenty of that, I think." I pull her closer to me still, until her arms are around my waist. At her height, she is barely up to my shoulders.

"As for my father," she goes on. "We'll just, uh, keep this between us for a while."

"Agreed."

We smile at each other for a while, and then I let a out a shaky breath. "You know what's killing me?" she tilts her head, indicating for me to go on. "Our first kiss was under a mistletoe."

She wrinkles her nose. "How cliche." Then she stands on her toes and angles her face towards mine. 'We'll just have to make up for that with our second kiss."

"Oh yeah?" I tease, tucking a strand of hair away from her face. The first few drops of rain hit slowly, and then a full on downpour begins. But Alice and I barely notice. I place my hand on the back of her neck and kiss her deeply. And after a while we do break apart, and she smiles, and I smile, and then she hugs me tightly.

_May 28, 2009 (Back on the Plane)_

So that was it, really. The beginning to it all. Or maybe it was actually the end. Alice and I had a few shorts weeks of blissful union and romance. I'll tell you about them in detail soon. It seemed liked that summer was never going to end.

But it did end eventually. And it went out with a bang. More on that much later, though. If I told you what happened right now, you wouldn't understand. Maybe you'd blame me, and perhaps you should. But for you to fully understand the tragedy that took place that night in August, I'll have to tell you about June and July, which were two of the happiest months of my life.

_End Chapter Four_

**This Chapter took a while to write. I intended to post last night, but my lap top died just I began the Royce scene. I hope this chapter was a success. Let me tell you though, you have not seen the last of Royce. I hope you liked the little bit of foreshadowing at then end. A last minute addition, because I surely couldn't end the chapter on a happy note, right?**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. How much fun was angry, pissed off Jasper? Very fun to write! Maybe we'll see angry!Jasper again too. **

**In Chapter Five: In celebration of the first week of summer, its the Forks High Alumni vs. Student softball fundraiser. Alice persuades Jasper to play for the alumni, while she plays for the students. Its all good fun until Jasper realizes his teammates include Dr. Cullen and the chief of police. Meanwhile, Alice and Jasper struggle to a find a time a place where they can be together, and Rosalie and Jasper get a dog.**

**Thanks for reading! Reviews would rock my world!**

**-Mayday**


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